The 500 - #280 - All That You Can't Leave Behind - U2

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

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Album: #280

Album Title: All That You Can't Leave Behind

Artist: U2

Genre: Rock, Pop

Recorded: Four Dublin Studios, 1 in France

Released: October, 2000

My age at release: 35

How familiar was I with it before this week: Fairly

Is it on the 2020 list? No

Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Beautiful Day

I've always been a fan of professional wrestling. I was just quiet about it for most of my life. Understandably so. The idea of watching barely covered, gigantic men grapple, pummel, hurl and bloody each other in a fight, with a predetermined outcome, is leaving you open to derision from your chums.

In my defence, at the age of 10 I had no idea it was scripted. When I perused the racks of variety and department stores, the combatants shown in the glossy wrestling magazines seemed authentically bloodied.

Pro-wrestling exploded into the mainstream in the early 80s with the arrival of "Rock 'n Wrestling" and a cast of larger-than-life stars, including Hulk Hogan, Rowdy Roddy Piper, The Macho Man Randy Savage, and Andre The Giant. However, these manufactured heroes were paired with established musicians, athletes and actors, such as Cyndi Lauper, Mr. T., Muhammed Ali, Liberace, and Alice Cooper. By this time, I was a teenager and I'd "closeted" any interest in the "squared-circle" by cracking  jokes and pretending to be above the absurdity of this, so-called, "sport". Quietly, I was still watching, especially the annual Wrestlemania events.

Rock 'n Wrestling Era (l-r) Lauper, Ali, Liberace, Hogan
& Wendi Richter

As it did in the 1960s, following pro-wrestling's first golden age, the fighting spectacle’s popularity waned in the late 1980s. It continued to make money from a loyal fanbase, but the digitally-savvy and cynical audiences of the next decade were not amenable to steroid-fueled, cartoonish characters wearing ridiculous make-up and claiming implausible backstories.

The mid-90s grunge-crowd was unwilling to accept the premise that green-tongued, turnbuckle-biting George "The Animal" Steele was an unhinged wild-man. Internet technology provided legitimate information about these gladiators.  They knew that "George" (William James Myers) was a devout Christian, a former educator and amateur wrestler with a Master’s degree, who had found success in Vince McMahon's make-believe world. And the green tongue? A full pack of Clorets breath mints before the match.

George "The Animal" Steele

Forever adaptable, pro-wrestling changed once more just before the millennium and hit mainstream popularity again. This time, the gimmicks were gone -- or embraced, ironically. The World Wrestling Federation (WWF) had begun its "Attitude Era" and stars like Stone Cold Steve Austin, Mick Foley, Triple H and The Rock emerged as anti-heroes. In this new, bawdy incarnation, the wrestlers played amplified versions of their own personalities. Stone Cold Steve Austin (born Steven Anderson) played a brash, plain-spoken, beer-drinking Texan roughneck who suffered fools poorly. The Rock (Dwayne Johnson) was a fast-talking, charismatic egotist who referred to himself in the third person. These two personas were so engaging and loved by fans they could effortlessly move from hero (babyface) to villain (heel) without losing popularity or massive merchandise sales.

The Rock (l) and Stone Cold Steve Austin battle in one of
their many high profile matches.

It was around this time that I opened up about my life-long interest in wrestling. Raw is War, the weekly television program from the World Wrestling Federation (WWF), (soon to be renamed World Wrestling Entertainment - WWE) was wildly popular with my students. Furthermore, several of my friends, including Steve "Lumpy" Sullivan, Oscar "Porchee" Macedo and Claudio Sossi who have all guest blogged here, were openly celebrating their love too. In March, 2002, Lumpy secured front row tickets to the 18th incarnation of Wrestlemania, which was held at Toronto's Skydome and he generously invited me to attend. As a bonus, we even got to keep the folding chairs we sat in.

Pro-wrestling was now billed as "sports entertainment". Any illusion that the outcomes of matchups or that combatants were legitimately competing was gone. Many of the verbal exchanges were scripted, often being clever, funny and provocative. The scripts were penned  for mature audiences and the two-hour program was an envelope-pushing bawdy circus of  over-the-top pageantry, strongmen, comedy, beautiful girls, clowns and acrobats. Though the outcomes were still pre-determined, risks taken by the muscled fighters were genuine and, often, extraordinarily dangerous.

A Tables, Ladders and Chairs match at a WWF event

So, if you've made it this far, you are likely wondering what U2's tenth release, All That You Can't Leave Behind, has to do with the world of sweaty ring titans. Once again, the WWE partnered with contemporary musicians who gave permission for their songs to be paired with promotional segments. Popular bands, including Motorhead, Drowning Pool, Creed, and even my favourite group, Rush, had songs featured in segments on WWE programming.

Lemmy, of Motorhead, performing at a WWE event with
Triple H

In January, 2002, wrestler Triple H (Paul Levesque) was recovering from a devastating injury. Eight months earlier during a match, he had torn a quadricep muscle. It was the kind of physical trauma that could have easily been career-ending for the 32-year-old six foot, four -inch, 260-pound athlete.

Triple H being helped from the ring following his quadricep tear.

Instead, the headlining superstar went through an intense physical therapy program and, as Wrestlemania 18 approached, his return to the ring was heavily promoted. The real-world reality of a comeback triumph was blended into the scripted version. Hence, Triple H's honest battle to return to the ring gave a semblance of truth to the hero storyline that followed. The ensuing uplifting, promotional video available here, included the song, Beautiful Day, from this week's U2 record. Since that time, the expression “the Beautiful Day treatment” has become shorthand between Lumpy and me for any situation when a returning injured wrestler gets (or doesn’t get) a promotional push.

And so it happened, the eventual title match between Triple H and Canadian Chris Jericho took place in Toronto with Lumpy and I in the first row. From our seats we witnessed Jericho being thrown out of the ring and landing at our feet. If you pause the DVD at just the right moment, you can see us enjoying the bout.

This week’s feature song, Beautiful Day, didn't really need the promotional push from pro-wrestling. It had been released as a single 18 months before the championship bout and topped the charts in many countries. It marked a return for U2 to their original sounds which made them one of the most popular bands in the world during the late 80s and early 90s. 

Prior to the release of All That You Can't Leave Behind, U2 had released several records which experimented with different genres, including electronic dance, alternative rock and industrial music. For ATYCLB, the group returned to its roots, reuniting with producers Brian Eno and Daniel Lanois, to make a record far more akin to their biggest releases, Achtung Baby and The Joshua Tree, which we will get to at #63 and #27...and I won't talk about wrestling.